


Saint Bernard

by Brynn_Jones



Category: NCIS
Genre: Bottom Jethro Gibbs, Car Accidents, Car Sex, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing Body Heat, Snowed In, Top Anthony DiNozzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 02:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15160517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynn_Jones/pseuds/Brynn_Jones
Summary: Hitting an ice patch during a car chase, Gibbs and DiNozzo swerve off the road and end up trapped in their car underneath a pile of snow. How do they keep warm once the temperature starts dropping?





	Saint Bernard

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta eureka1 for her help :)

Tony gripped the ‘oh shit’ handle a little tighter as Gibbs swung the car round the bend, tyres screeching as their tail end came uncomfortably close to the edge of the cliff road. The car in front of them sped up again, wheels spraying snow mixed with gravel as their suspect pushed his Beamer to the limit in an attempt to shake them off.

DiNozzo gritted his teeth with the effort to stay in his seat as he fought the strong centrifugal forces Gibbs was creating with his reckless driving. “I don’t think we’ll be arresting anyone if we end up tumbling off the cliff, boss,” Tony grunted as his stomach did a somersault.

“Shut up, DiNozzo,” Gibbs barked. “I know what I’m doing.”

The car in front of them swerved slightly, the snowy road clearly not the best terrain for a high-speed chase, and Tony figured Gibbs wasn’t actually trying to catch the guy as much as run him off the cliff.

The perp they were chasing was a retired lieutenant named Martin Keen - a dedicated marine, father and churchgoer by day and a drug dealer by night. Using his dead brother’s name and the money he’d received from his life insurance policy, Keen opened a bank account that funded all of his illegal activities at the Mexican border. He ran an extensive operation smuggling Colombian cocaine into the States, using a group of his marine buddies to do the dirty work, while he oversaw the comings and goings from the comfort of his home in Pennsylvania.

“Cazzo!” Tony swore as his whole body got thrown against the car door by another of his boss’ ridiculous manoeuvres. His shoulder wasn’t going to thank him for this, he thought as he righted himself and prodded at the undoubtedly bruised joint. In such a dangerous terrain, Gibbs’ suicidal driving had caused their car chase to evolve into a game of chicken, with both cars swerving to the edge of the cliff road with frightening regularity.

As if to prove him right, the car in front of them hit an especially icy patch of the road and spun into an uncontrollable skid.

“Brake!” Tony cried out as their own car careered towards that same patch of ice.

Gibbs, for once, did as instructed and stomped on the brakes as they watched the lieutenant’s vehicle slide sideways across the road, nearing the cliff edge. Then, just as their own front tyres hit the ice, the BMW in front of them reached the side of the road and - never slowing down - tumbled right off.

His boss immediately let go of the brake - which was rendered useless by the thick layer of ice anyway - and attempted to steer them into safety. It didn’t seem to work at first, their car following Keen’s tyre tracks towards certain death, but then Gibbs’ driving skills finally paid off as they swerved sharply to the left and went straight into a ditch on the other side of the road.

There was a loud crash and then things went suddenly very dark and quiet, as their car buried itself in a pile of snow and the engine cut out. Only the telltale hissing sound of some pressurised fluid spraying out of a damaged hose underneath the hood disturbed the silence. DiNozzo wrinkled his nose - steering fluid, going by the nasty stench.

“Are you hurt?” Jethro asked gruffly, twisting in his seat to check his own body for injuries. A sharp twinge of pain almost took his breath away as he tried to move his right leg, and there was a dull pressure in his chest - the signs of a torn ACL and a bruised chest.

Tony shook his head, rubbing at his shoulder. “Just a little sore, but I’m fine. You?”

“Fine,” Gibbs answered gruffly.

Tony didn't believe him but figured that if any of Gibbs' injuries were life threatening, the man would admit to it - his instinct of self-preservation winning over his marine pride. Instead of commenting, he distrustfully eyed the piles of snow that covered the windows, blocking his view. There was only a tiny sliver of light coming from the upper part of the back window; the rest was fully buried under the white snow.  
  
He tried the door handle to see if he could get out, but even when Tony used his full weight to lean against it, the door didn't budge an inch.

“Can you open your door?” he asked Jethro.

His boss pulled the door handle, then used his shoulder to press against the door when it didn’t open but, still, nothing happened.

Pulling his phone out of his designer coat, Tony noticed it was dead. He sighed and undid his seatbelt. “I’m gonna crawl to the back to see if we can open the back door,” he told Gibbs. “Is your phone working?”

DiNozzo heard some grunting as Gibbs twisted in his seat again, looking for his phone, while he climbed over the seats. “No,” the older man informed him. “No signal.”

Pushing and kicking fruitlessly at the door in the back, Tony concluded they were well and truly trapped. “We can’t get out,” he told his boss. Then, tilting his head in consideration, he continued, “We could probably open up the trunk if we had a way to remove this cage.” He patted the offending steel mesh cage that separated the back seats from the trunk area. “Why do we even have this thing here?”

Jethro turned to look at him. “It’s so that the heavy equipment we cart around doesn’t fly forwards and kill us if we ever get into an accident.”

Tony snorted. “Like this one you mean?”

Gibbs scowled. “Shut up, DiNozzo.” His hand twitched in such a manner that Tony was sure that had he been any closer, he’d have received the mother of all head slaps.

“What do we do now, boss?” he asked. “We’re stuck in here with no phone signal.”

“And no heat,” Gibbs added, twisting the key in the ignition. The engine didn’t even sputter. “The temperature will start dropping fast,” he warned.

Tony assessed their situation critically. It was going to take a while for anyone to find them, so the two of them would have to find a way to keep warm. He probably wouldn’t have too much trouble, but Jethro might struggle. Tony had a good coat on - expensive, designer, but most importantly functional - while Gibbs’ jacket left a lot to be desired. Tony was also bulkier and younger, so his body would retain body heat better than the older man’s slightly smaller and injured one.

“There should be a first aid kit with a space blanket in it under the seat,” Jethro interrupted Tony’s musings, motioning with his arm. “We’ll have to share.”

The younger man bent down to reach underneath the indicated seat and fished out the first aid kit. There was indeed one space blanket in it, as well as a couple reusable hand warmers - those would come in handy later on when the temperature dropped down to the unbearable.

“Let me help you climb over here then,” Tony suggested, outstretching a hand towards his boss. “We should get under the blanket and begin sharing body heat now - while we’re still sort of warm.”

Gibbs scowled fiercely at the suggestion, hating the idea of needing help, but accepted the offered hand nonetheless. Tony supported his weight so he wouldn’t aggravate his injuries and further as he climbed over the seats and, soon enough, Gibbs found himself sprawled across the back seat with the younger agent still holding his hand.

“Uh, sorry,” Tony muttered, pulling his hand back once he realised what he had been doing. “Let’s, uh, let’s get under that blanket then, shall we?”

Jethro snorted in amusement at the other man’s fumbled speech - it wasn’t every day that something flustered the unflappable and smooth-talking DiNozzo. “Yeah, let’s,” he agreed, scooting over to the back of the seat, so Tony could lie down next to him.

The younger man, however, just raised his eyebrows. “That’s not gonna work, boss,” he told him, eyeing the five inches of space Gibbs had left him. “I’m gonna have to lie on top of you.”

Jethro heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Fine,” he grunted. “Just get on with it. We need to trap as much heat as we can underneath the blanket while the car is still somewhat warm.”

Tony did as he was told, carefully lowering himself on top of Gibbs. He tried to keep as much of his weight as possible off of the injured man, propping himself up on his elbows on each side of his boss’ head. He let his long legs slide in between Jethro’s, fitting their hips together. Only when he was more or less comfortably settled did he pull the silver blanket over both of them, carefully tucking the edges around their bodies to prevent any heat loss.

It was only when they were both finally situated and everything went quiet again that Tony noticed how close they actually were. They were lying face to face, breathing the same air, eyes looking straight at each other.

“Huh, so this is cozy,” Tony joked.

Gibbs’ hand twitched in an aborted attempt at a head slap. “Shut up, Tony.”

The two men went quiet for an uncomfortable  moment, trying to pretend their position was normal and that nothing was wrong. It wasn’t like they had never before been this close to each other; in fact, just last week they had been in this exact position while they were sparring in the NCIS gym. Never had they spent so much time in such close proximity, though, and Tony was afraid his reaction to having a firm, warm body beneath him was going to show.

“So,” he tried to distract them both from their circumstances. “How long do you think it will take for them to find us?”

Jethro shifted under him, accidentally jabbing an elbow into Tony’s ribs. Well, Tony thought it was accidental anyway. “We’re almost three hundred miles away from D.C., so you do the math,” the older man answered.

DiNozzo considered this. “So five hours at the least if they realise something’s wrong right away. If not, we might be spending the night here.”

Gibbs burrowed closer to Tony’s warmth. “Won’t come to that, hopefully,” he muttered. “It’s getting colder in here.”

The Italian wasn’t feeling the rapidly dropping temperature yet, his warm coat and the blanket enough to keep him comfortably warm. “You want me to, uh, press closer?” he asked hesitantly. He could stop holding himself up on his elbows - his biceps were getting tired anyway - and flatten his chest to Jethro’s.

“You can get any closer?” Gibbs asked skeptically, eyebrows raised. “Your dick’s up my ass as it is.”

Blushing furiously at the older man’s crude comment - as well as at the picture it evoked - Tony cleared his throat in an attempt to battle his embarrassment. “How’s this?” he asked instead, lowering his chest onto the other man. “Not too heavy?”

“’s fine,” Jethro mumbled, closing his eyes. Tony’s face was so close, it had become blurry and therefore uncomfortable to look at.

Pressing his face against Gibbs’ shoulder, so he didn’t have to hold it up at a weird angle, Tony whispered, “Good.”

They went quiet again, though this time the silence was comfortable. They were warm and cozy, breathing the same air, bodies pressed together literally from head to toe.

A good hour later, DiNozzo was drifting - feeling like he could fall asleep with how comfortable he was - when he noticed Jethro had started shivering.

“You okay?” he whispered into the side of the older man’s neck.

Another shiver racked Gibbs’ body. “Fine,” he grunted.

“You’re shivering,” Tony noted.

His boss gave him a ‘no shit, Sherlock’ look. “I’m cold,” he deadpanned.

DiNozzo pulled the two hand warmers from where he had stuffed them in his coat pocket and bent the little metal strip inside. He then proceeded to slip the rapidly heating packets under Gibbs’ jacket, pressing them against the man’s back.

“Better?”

Jethro hmmed in agreement, shifting his hips to get more comfortable. The movement pressed his crotch even closer to Tony’s, causing the Italian to hiss. Gibbs moved his hips again, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Tony immediately lifted his pelvis off of the other man. “Ah, you might not want to do that,” he told him, getting his elbows back under himself.

“You having trouble, DiNozzo?” Jethro teased.

The younger man stared at his boss. Was he being serious? “What the hell are you doing?” he asked incredulously, glaring into Gibbs’ blue eyes. They were a bit unfocused, though whether that was from the cold or the pain he didn’t know.

Gibbs shrugged. “I’m cold,” he said as if it explained everything.

“So what? You want to rile me up?” Tony questioned, a little pissed off. “Get into a fight? Will that warm you up?”

“Was thinking of something else,” Jethro replied noncommittally, shifting again. “My ribs wouldn’t really thank me for fighting you right now.”

Tony tilted his head, considering the man lying sprawled underneath him. “Tell me what you want, Gibbs,” he finally settled on saying. “I don’t like to play guessing games.”

The older man closed his eyes, avoiding looking at DiNozzo. “You know what I want,” he said quietly, pressing his crotch up against Tony’s. “Don’t make me say it.”

Tony hesitantly lay back down, chest to chest and crotch to crotch again. “You sure?” he asked. “We start this, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

Gibbs shivered, and not because of the cold this time. “I’m sure.”

“Ok,” the younger man whispered, leaning closer to his boss’ face. He nosed at Gibbs’ chin, tilting his head slightly in order to reach his lips, then gently pressed their mouths together. A few seconds later, the other man’s lips parted, and Tony swiped his tongue along the seam.

Jethro hummed quietly, his own tongue slowly coming out to tangle with Tony’s. The brunet gradually deepened the kiss, tasting along Gibbs’ teeth and feeling the heat between them pick up.

He pulled away after long minutes, quietly gasping for air. “Good?” he murmured against Jethro’s bottom lip.

The older man hmmed in agreement, pressing another kiss to Tony’s mouth. Soon, they lost track of time as the passion began building up, their kisses getting wetter and deeper.

Tony’s hand slipped under Gibbs’ jacket, fingers tracing the man’s nicely formed abs. “There’s too many clothes in the way,” he complained, feeling a little uncoordinated in his thick coat.

Jethro bit at his chin, his own hands beginning to explore Tony’s torso. “Get used to it; I’m not undressing in this fucking cold.”

The brunet man slowly smoothed his hand over Jethro’s skin, his thumb brushing over the older man’s nipple at one point. Not to be outdone, Gibbs immediately followed suit and firmly pressed his fingers against Tony’s own hardening nub.  
  
Feeling another shiver run through Jethro’s body - this one definitely a result of the temperature going by the fleeting look of annoyance on the older man’s face - Tony decided to move things along. Foreplay was nice and all, but the situation called for some actual action.

“So, how do you want to do this?” he asked. “Want me to jerk you off or was that crack about my dick in your ass something you’d be interested in?”

Gibbs didn’t answer for a few moments, making the Italian think he was reconsidering his decision to have sex with him altogether, before he looked him dead in the eye and said, “There some vaseline in the med kit.”  
  
The brunet smiled at that, sneaking an arm out of their warm cocoon and reaching for the first aid kit again. He felt for the tube of gel he had noticed earlier, quickly pulling his arm back under the blanket once he found it.  
  
Dropping the gel next to Gibbs’ hips, Tony proceeded to unbuckle the man’s belt. “I’m gonna have to undress you a little,” he warned the man. “I’ll make it up to you, though,” he added cheekily.

“Just get on with it,” Jethro instructed, sliding one arm around Tony’s neck and arching his hips off the seat to make it possible for the younger man to pull down his trousers.  
  
Quickly undoing the button and unzipping the fly of Jethro’s jeans, the brunet slid the offending article of clothing all the way down to Gibbs’ knees, following it by his pants as well. “Ready?” he asked, grabbing the tube of slick again.

The marine nodded quickly, legs sliding further apart and fingers spasming against Tony’s neck. “Get on with it.”

The Italian smiled wickedly, slicking up his fingers quickly, before pressing them against his lover’s crack.

Gibbs hissed. “’s cold.”

“Sorry,” Tony mumbled, pecking his cheek. “It’ll warm up.”

Smearing the gel across Jethro’s opening, Tony slowly slid a finger inside. He waited for Gibbs’ slight grimace to subside, before adding another digit. He scissored and stretched the man’s tight muscles carefully, not wanting to hurt him once he entered him - he wasn’t exactly small.

When he brushed against the small bundle of nerves inside Jethro, the older man arched up from the seat, disturbing their warm cocoon and letting in a bit of cold air.

“Fuck,” Gibbs swore, quickly tucking the silver material back around them.     
Adding a dollop of the vaseline, Tony added a third finger, taking his time with the preparation. He knew Gibbs was ready when the man started undulating his hips slightly, making grunting sounds at the back of his throat.

“I don’t have a condom,” the Italian breathed out, slipping his fingers back out.

Jethro looked at him pointedly. “Do I look like I care?” he rasped, thrusting his hips wantonly.  
  
Tony undid his own trousers in answer, pulling out his hard shaft. “You ready?” he asked, sliding his cockhead across Jethro’s opening. At the nod he received, he pushed in. Jethro tensed up slightly, clearly not used to the intrusion, but Tony soothed him by rubbing one palm gently across his stomach. It took a while, but then Gibbs’ breath hitched as Tony bottomed out. He halted, giving the older man a chance to adjust, before easing out, making sure to drag across Jethro’s prostate, then jabbing at it as he plunged back in.  
  
“Fuck,” Gibbs grunted. “More.”  
  
The brunet acceded, arousal sweeping over him as he started pistoning in and out, giving it to Jethro fast and hard. They were trying to generate heat after all.

Their movements synchronised after a couple strokes, the sex becoming less jerky and more fluid. It didn’t take them long after that to reach the edge of release. Tony’s vision began to white out, and he groped for the older man’s cock in order to carry Gibbs with him over the edge. As he slid his fingers up and down, the marine’s channel tightened around him, and the man suddenly spurted into his hand. Unable to hold onto his control, the younger man followed soon after, spilling into his lover as his arms gave out underneath him and he collapsed against Jethro’s bruised chest.

“Ouch,” Gibbs grimaced, panting with both pain and pleasure.

“Srry,” Tony slurred. 

They lay like that for long minutes, just breathing and enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies. Their peace was interrupted by Tony’s softening member sliding out of Gibbs.

“Ugh,” the older man grimaced.

Tony chuckled. “You, uh, warm enough?” he asked. “Or do you need me to do anything else for you?”

Jethro paused, thinking. Then, smiling, he answered, “Give me a couple minutes to catch my breath and then we’ll see. I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”

“Happy to keep you warm,” Tony muttered into his neck. “Really happy.”


End file.
